The Name
by Simply Prettyful
Summary: When she moved to Gotham, she didn't know how her life was going to change. She thought it was same old same old. Hiding behind names, she allowed herself to slip into a personality and a life. When her guardian is stolen from her, she has no choice but to turn herself in to the Justice League to try and get him back. (Slight AU. OC/Robin slash Nightwing mostly.)


**A/N: HELLO, BABIES! It is I! The great and powerful- who am I kidding?! Anyhoo. I has a new story. Difference to the others: IT HAS PLOT! I know right?!** **I hope you enjoy!**

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing_**** copyrighted/trademarked.**

* * *

"Hey! Watch it!"

I hate it when people do that. Everyone has a name and not once have I come across someone called Watch It. I mean, how dehumanising is that? We're each given titles at birth and even if you don't know what that name is you have a gender. You can at least throw in an indignant 'lady' or 'mister' just so you don't have to sound like a complete pig or asshat.

Some of us have two names, though. Some have more than that.

Take me for example. I have many names. One true name and many, many, many aliases. It depends on where and who you are. In some places, I could be Wilma Hangnail. In others, I could be Carrie Thurston. I was a travelling child, what can I say. But then, life on the streets was easier for me. I was raised on them. Don't look surprised. Sometimes, that hobo tries to help out the dumpster baby. Sometimes, he was actually a good guy with bad circumstances. Maybe he eventually will win the lottery and get a better life.

You're still wondering my name, right? Eh, you'll hear it in due course. Right now, I think its best we start with the story. You might want to get comfortable. It's a very long story. Just there will do. It hardly matters. You'll probably end up entranced in my words. I'm not vain, thank you, very much. It's just an interesting story.

"Argh!" I screamed as I hit the dummy with my favourite weapon of all time; my baseball bat, Batty. I'd had Batty since I was nine. Not an imaginative name but what else is a nine year old supposed to call it?

"Not quite," my guardian said. "A little north of the neck and you get the head. Try that out."

I nodded. "Alright," I said and tried it. Gritting my teeth, I swung the bat and let it hit the dummy right. I already knew how to hit it. This was anger time, though. The time when I just let it all out in offensive blows. It was fun. Sometimes. Most of the time.

"You wanna try that with the knife?"

I laughed. "Ray!" I said and dropped the bat to look at him. "I don't use the knives here. The dummies are too thick."

"I'm surprised you stay so low tech, Gee Gee. With what you can do…" Ray shrugged as he came toward me. He picked up Batty and swung her expertly, knocking the head off the dummy. "It doesn't surprise me why though. Nothing like the clean swing of a bat. What is this anyway? Aluminium? Wood?"

"Wood. I'd be outraged at using an Aluminium bat," I grinned.

Ray chuckled. "Just how I raised you."

"I'm pretty sure I raised myself with some pointers from you," I jested.

Ray narrowed his eyes and swung the bat my way. Oh, don't worry. He knows I can get away from it easily. I ducked and rolled away, landing in a crouched position. Ray chuckled and put Batty down again. "Knives? Now?"

"Why do I have to train? I _never_ see you training," I pointed out.

"I don't make my own talents null and void," Ray said.

"Unfair observation. I prefer knives and bats," I frowned.

"A girl who can put together a heat ray and she wastes her time with this sort of training. Did you polish the armour?" Ray asked.

"Yup. I cleaned it until I could see my face in it. Which should mean that I can use the other armour I am not required to clean," I smirked. "You know. My own armour. Not that junk you picked up from a sale and made to look like my armour."

"Hard earned money," Ray sang.

"Ray, you won the lottery and now work as an insurance worker," I recited and rolled my eyes. "And before then, you were homeless."

"So? A homeless man can still work- " Ray started.

"And be of worth. I know, Ray. You raised me well," I told him. I shot him a smirk. "I'm surprised you never ask about the other armour I don't like talking about."

"Well… You don't like talking about it, Gee," Ray shrugged. "Why ask when I know it'll probably end in my dodging a throwing knife?"

He had a point.

I opened my mouth when the gong went off. Sighing, I looked at Ray. "I have to go to school. I'll train after I get through detention."

"Its your first day. You haven't gotten a detention yet!" Ray said, dumbfounded.

"Ray. I'm me. My record is five minutes upon entry," I reminded him. I kissed his cheek and ran out of the room.

* * *

Gotham Academy. This is the place I get to use my favourite name. And my favourite name is Kay Stoker. Don't ask me why. I just like the way it rolls off my tongue. My hair was dyed again. Just to start at this so called prestigious school. What's a fourteen year old to do though if she wants to cover her tracks?

So here I was. I was a red head with heterochromia. Oh, I forgot to mention my contact lenses. Yeah, I wear them. It's interesting to see how I far I can go to change myself. My eyes are blue with orangey flecks. The other eye was green with brown flecks. I also wore a very light fake tan and a splash of make-up.

"Hi," someone said. Instantly, I turned around and saw her. "You must be the new girl? Kay, was it?"

Oh God. This girl even had the snooty accent! I had to try hard not to laugh. That droll. It was eating me form the inside out. Just… Oh my God! Of course, I did my usual routine at these preppy schools Ray likes to send me to. I put on my sweetest smile and nodded whilst saying in my nicest and least sarcastic voice, "Yes. That's me. It's nice to meet you."

"I'm Darcy. Darcy Ryan," the girl said and extended a hand. "I'm your new student liaison. Welcome to Gotham Academy."

"Thanks," I grinned.

This was going to be fun. My first day at Gotham Academy and my millionth student liaison. Let's see… I could trip her up. Claim to be clumsy and then I could kick over that bucket over there which probably contains soapy liquid.

"So… You're taking AP calculas? Aren't you a sophomore?" Darcy asked me and started walking toward the bug building which honestly just reminded me of a prison with its straight forward architecture. Smart, cold and to the point. Then there was the swarm of blue everywhere. Everyone wore their blazer… Or nearly everyone.

"Yeah. High IQ. What can I say," I said.

"High IQ? How high?" Darcy smirked.

"Just one-thirty-five," I said, looking around. I was smart. Ish. More like, if I hear a fact, I can't remember it until I need it. So I scored high on an IQ test. My talents didn't exactly help, either. "I'm no Einstein."

"No but you're pretty close. You'll do well here. I can guarantee that," Darcy beamed.

How fake would that smile be? I asked myself that question with each liaison. So many of them were caught out as soon as I walked away from them. This girl was sticking to me like glue. She even directed me on where to go.

As I listened to her warning about it, however, I slipped on soapy water. I didn't recall kicking the bucket. I was caught, arms wrapping around my waist and pulling me backwards.

"Thanks," I muttered.

"No problem. By the way, I think red is your colour. I'd love to see your original hair colour, though," a male voice whispered in my ear.

My eyes widened and I snatched myself away from him. I turned to see a lean boy with slicked back, black hair and the biggest, brightest blue eyes I have ever seen. He held a hand out and wore a cocksure grin.

"I'm Dick Grayson," he said.

"I agree with the dick part," I scowled and turned toward Darcy. We continued to walk.

* * *

By noon, I had detention for a week. Apparently, this school is not pro-froggy freedom. Nor did it like it when a student cussed in frustration. They also dislike it when you call the teacher a fag. I only got so little because I was the new girl and 'needed time to adjust' or some crap like that. Ray was impressed. It was not my quickest record but one of the shortest amounts I got on the first day of school. My longest was a month. I managed to pull that off when I set fire to a girl's skirt.

I got home and fell back on the nearest cushy chair. "RAYYYYY!" I called.

"We have visitors, Kay. We're in the dining room," he called back.

I groaned and rubbed my aching neck- they sure liked to pile the books on you here. My bag weighed a ton. I walked in and immediately straightened up.

You want to guess why?

Dick Grayson was stood in the living room with a tall man I recognised as Bruce Wayne. I audibly groaned.

"Can I go to bed now? Or practice?" I asked Ray, finding him sat at the head of the dining table.

"We have guests. Practice can wait for later," Ray said. "For now, we'd like you to sit."

I looked at Ray. He was relaxed, laid back even. He had his elbows on the table, however. Something was up. I narrowed my eyes at him and then glared at Grayson.

"If you're here to demand an apology for earlier, I'm not gonna," I growled.

Bruce Wayne looked at Grayson. "Earlier?"

"Just a minor squabble," Grayson shrugged, dismissing it as if it were nothing.

It was something damn it! That put me in an even worse mood. And to top it off, this now made Ray tense and lean forward. I had to get out of here.

"I won't sit. I'll stand. What's going on?"

"Young Dick here has offered take you on a tour of Gotham," Ray said, giving me a warning look.

"I've already looked around," I said through gritted teeth.

"Well in any case, why not show him the dojo? Mister Wayne assures me he knows a thing or two about the mat," Ray suggested.

"What is this? Mommy and Daddy want to talk time? Why even call me in here?" I asked, agitated.

"So Dick's arrival didn't surprise you?" Ray tried.

I crossed my arms and Ray sat back. He looked expectant as I walked out of the room without a single word. Unfortunately, Dick Grayson followed me.

I picked up my bag and started upstairs for the dojo. Why I had to show him this place, I don't know. The dojo is a place of peace. Grayson did not make me feel peaceful. Grayson was the most annoying fuzz bucket in Gotham. And I was stuck with showing him my place. My place. He had no right to be there. Nor had he any right to be in my do I have to show him anyway? Couldn't Ray do that whilst I was in detention?

Apparently not.

I opened the door and set my bag down. I disappeared into my changing room and came out to find Grayson inspecting a dummy. I rolled my eyes.

"I gotta have something to practice on, Grayson."

"Why does it have knife cuts?" Senor Annoying asked.

"Drunk Ray," I answered. It was a lie. But I'm good at lying. I can lie my way to Japan if I wanted.

"Sure. So you're not the one wielding a perfectly aimed knife at the heart and neck? Not to mention the liver. Some of these are twisted, too," Dick said.

"Watch out, World. We got a bad ass over here," I scowled. "Whatever. Its a dummy. It doesn't breathe. It doesn't respire. It does not have organs, never mind a heart beat."

"Hey, I'm just trying to be friendly," Grayson said.

"I don't want to be your friend, Grayson."


End file.
